


Always Unwanted, Never Alone

by clarathesoufflegirl



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarathesoufflegirl/pseuds/clarathesoufflegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Éponine Thénardier discovers that she isn't her parents' daughter, she sets out to find her blood family. Along the way, she makes new friends, meets family, and maybe, just maybe, falls in love. Modern AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Unwanted, Never Alone

**Paris, 1995**

The door shut quietly behind the doctor as he slowly made his way to where a man and his two year old son sat waiting. He was walking slowly because he dreaded the conversation they would have. How did one tell a man that his wife had passed away?

The nurse had just finished wrapping the baby in cloth when he heard an anguished cry come from outside. She hurried to the door and with one last look at the lifeless body of the beautiful women on the bed, left.

The man received the baby girl and held her in his arms. She was perfect, and looked exactly like her mother. A tiny little nose. Delicate hands. "Éponine. My wife loved that name. Éponine-" he was cut off as the baby cried and opened her eyes – and he gasped. Bright green eyes stared back at him Dazzling, vivid green eyes… unlike anyone in his family or his wife's. Quite frankly, unlike anyone he ever knew, except for… but it couldn't be. He remembered those lonely nights, hasty excuses, unexplained absences, and all those times he was away. The baby was not his.

Anger burst from him, and he pushed the girl back into the startled nurse's arms. "Take her away." Then, he turned around to leave, and beckoned to his son.

"Come, Marius."

* * *

  
In a quaint little town on the outskirts of Paris, Éponine Thénardier worked quietly. It was 3 o'clock, and her father was due back any moment, returning from another drunken night out with his gang. She made sure to stay out of her father's way when he was drunk-he might be an amazing father when he was sober, but he was a mean drunk.

The Thénadier stumbled into their Inn, reeking of mold and cheap beer. Shit. He was early.

"Who is this hussy?" he growled, catching sight of her.

"It's you brat Éponine, don't you know your own kid?" replied Guelemer, towering over the rest.

"Ha!" snarled Thénardier. Éponine ain't my kid. Not my kid, not my kid… he trailed off and lid to the floor in a drunken daze.

She froze-not his kid? What did he… oh. She felt sick, then angry. Her mother, always so caring and loving, had whored herself out. She knew that her parents had dangerous childhoods, but she couldn't believe that her mother would stoop as low as prostitution.

Éponine slammed the door and collapsed on her bed. She sat there as her father's words sank in. How her whole life was a lie. She wasn't her dad's little girl, she was just the unwanted by-product of a night out with some asshole who paid for her mother. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she made no move to wipe them. She fell to her bed with a sob, hoping that she would wake up, and this would turn out to be just a nightmare.

* * *

  
The sun was directly overhead by the time Éponine woke up. Her room was one of the suites on the second floor-it had a bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen. The price, however, for such a nice room was working as the receptionist after school and during the weekends, leaving her no time for a social life. Not that she would have one anyways.

She groaned and sat up. Her eyes were red and puffy after crying, and her hair was a mess. As she finished getting ready, she decided to confront her mother about her parentage. She had calmed down, and other rational explanations circled through her mind. Maybe, she thought, her father was just rambling. Maybe this was all just some misunderstanding. Her mum would clear everything up, they'd laugh about how silly Éponine was, and this whole thing would blow over.

Really, she shouldn't have been so hopeful.

Just as she was about to open the door, a knock sounded, and Éponine found her mother standing on the other side. Her mother brushed past her and sat down on Éponine's bed, and patted the space beside her.

"We need to talk"

Éponine sank onto the mattress and waited for her mother to speak.

"I know that you heard what your father said last night," she started, "and I don't want you to worry. I know what you'll think-that I was a prostitute. After all, that's what you've grown up learning about from my childhood. You're wrong."

Éponine sighed in relief, glad that for once, her worst fears weren't true. Her mother's next words, however, made her blood freeze in her veins.

"You aren't my daughter, either."


End file.
